


Destined

by orphan_account



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Dinner Parties, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Family, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Party Crashing, Phone Calls, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-10 09:45:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4387082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A family can be chosen, they don't always have to be the one born to you.  But no matter how you came by your family, families stick together.</p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>AU where Joker never shot Barbara, or killed Jason.  Damian doesn't exist and Jason is still Robin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shut Up and Dance

Joker moved slowly along the edge of the crowd, edging his way towards the DJ's table. He broke through the mass of people and ran his fingers through his disheveled black hair. Seeing as Joker had chosen to attend this event as Jack, he had decided it was probably a good idea to change his hair and skin tone to something more natural. For the night, the clown Prince of crime was nothing more than an unusually happy (or perhaps drunk) party guest. No one would take notice. At least, not until he made his move. Then at, hopefully, he would have the full attention of one man.

Joker approached the DJ and smiled at the young woman, "Hi! Do you think you could play a request for me?"

She grinned at the charming young man, "Sure, what do you want?"

"Shut Up and Dance please?"

She nodded and hit a few keys on her computer, "There you go!" She flashed him a thumbs up.

"Thanks!" Joker waved to her and turned to survey the crowd.  Where was he...there. Joker quickly slid through the mob to a man who really didn't seem to be enjoying himself, although he was dancing with the most beautiful women at the party.  Joker tapped his arm, grinning despite himself when the man turned to him. "Hello, Mr Wayne. Quite the party," he purred.

Bruce shrugged, "I'm glad you’re enjoying yourself, Mr?"

Joker laughed, "Have you forgotten me already? Just Jack darling."

"Then I insist, call me Bruce."

"Well, Bruce, I'm not actually enjoying myself all that much."

"What, why? Is there anything I can do?"

"How can I enjoy myself if my host looks so miserable?"

"You noticed?" said Bruce bashfully.

Joker laughed, "Really, Bruce, you’re not doing the best job of hiding it. One might think you're lonely."

"Not anymore. I-I mean..."

Joker smirked and put a finger to Bruce's lips, "Shh. I get what you mean."

"I feel like I've known you for a long time, like I can trust you. Where have we met before?"

Joker's song came on. He leaned in and whispered, "Shut up and dance with me."

Bruce smiled at him and twirled Joker around.

"There you go! Relax, live a little. It is your party after all." Joker sang softly, "Oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me. I said you’re holding back, she said shut up and dance with me."

His voice was sweet and high with a bit of an edge. Bruce absolutely loved it. He didn't want Jack to stop singing, so Bruce decided to respond.

"This woman is my destiny. She said, ooh-ooh-hoo, shut up and dance with me," the billionaire's voice was deep and rich like chocolate. For a moment Joker was frozen and Bruce feared he had done something wrong.

Then Joker beamed at him and sang, "We were victims of the night. The chemical, physical, kryptonite. Helpless to the bass and the fading light. Oh, we were bound to get together, bound to get together."  Joker grabbed Bruce's arm and pulled him into the center of the floor.

Bruce laughed, "He took my arm, I don't know how it happened. We took the floor and she said."

"Oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me. I said you're holding back, she said shut up and dance with me."

Bruce joined in and they sang, "This woman is my destiny. She said, ooh-ooh-hoo, shut up and dance with me."

Joker dropped out and Bruce looked down at his partner's converse, "A backless dress and some beat up sneaks. My discothèque, Juliet teenage dream."

"I felt it in my chest as she looked at me."

"I knew we were bound to be together, bound to be together."

They were caught up in the music, the moment. The final chorus came but neither wanted the song to end.

Joker leaned in and sang softly, "This Batman is my destiny. I said, Ooh-ooh-hoo, shut up and dance with me."

Bruce missed a step, staring at the man in front of him. How could he possibly know?

"What did you say?" breathed the billionaire.

Joker giggled, allowing a bit of mania to slip into it, "Hi Batsy. You didn't recognize me?"

Realization dawned in Bruce's eyes and he grabbed Joker's arm and pulled him out onto the porch. "What do you want Joker?" he spat.

"You're hurting my feelings. All I wanted was to dance."

"You never want something as simple as that. Why are you here? How do you know who I am?"

Joker laughed, "Bruce, I've always known your secret. And you're right, I do want something else. This."

Joker leaned in and grabbed Bruce's coat, pulling him close. The kiss was nothing like what the billionaire would have expected, not that he had ever thought about kissing Joker. What a through.  It was soft and sweet and shockingly sincere. As innocent as a child's first kiss in the parking lot of a movie theatre. Joker pulled back and Bruce found himself missing the jester's touch.

"I'll see you around Bruce," Joker's voice was gentle,and then he was gone.

Bruce stood there in shock for a moment. He brushed a hand along his coat and found a car stuck in his pocket. Joker must have planted it on him. To the billionaire's surprise, it wasn't a joker card, rather the king of hearts. Written neatly across the back was a phone number and the words, "Call Me."


	2. Dinner at Lucia's

“Joker, what’s your play?”

Bruce hadn’t wanted to call the jester.  Really.  Nor had he intended to memorize the number from that cursed card.  These things just happen when one has spent precisely three days and seventeen hours pouring over the before mentioned evidence.  Bruce had to call him.  Joker had gone to ground, total silence.  While the hero was glad the clown wasn’t out on a murderous rampage at the moment, but the longer Joker spent plotting, the more explosive things would get.  It had been far too quiet.  If there was even the slightest chance that calling Joker would help find him, Bruce had to take it.  So here he was, holding the secure phone in the batcave to his ear, waiting for the madman to respond.

“Hello Bruce, how have you been?” Joker sounded… normal.  Like this was just a call between two friends.

“Don’t play with me, what do you want?”

“Well, lets see.  I want a big hot fudge sundae.  With nuts and whipped cream.  And I want a pony.”

“Joker!  Why did you give me this number?”

“Why?  I wanted to talk to you, obviously.  That’s why I told you to call me.  You know, you really aren’t much of a talker whenever we meet in person.  You’re much chattier over the phone.”

“I want to know what you’re up to.  What are you plotting?”

“Lucia’s at 16 Grundy Street.  Meet we there at ten tonight, come as Bruce.  I’ll tell you everything I have planned.”

“Why would I do that?  It’s a trap.”

“No, I promise.  I swear it on my wife’s grave.”

“You were never married Joker.”

“Ha!  Show’s what you know.  Just come, I’ll be at the table with a black rose.”

Joker hung up.  Why didn’t he threaten someone?  Whenever Joker wants me to do something, he always threatens someone, he knows it will work.  Why not this time?  Bruce glanced at the clock, 9:30.  

“Alfred! Pull up the lamborghini, I’m going out,” the hero ran from the batcave.  He had thirty minutes to get into the city, it would be cutting it a bit close.  It was a bad idea to go, a really really bad idea.  But what else could he do?

 

Joker was waiting for him a promised, although it took Bruce a moment to recognize the clown.  As a few nights ago at the party, he had hidden his papery complexion with makeup and his hair was still dyed black.  Joker wasn’t grinning, he actually looked almost anxious.  The madman nervously adjusted his midnight blue tie so it fell smoothly over a black shirt.  Joker glanced up and Bruce saw the only thing about his appearance he hadn’t changed was his eyes.  Bruce was secretly glad Joker had forgone contacts, he had always rather liked the shocking color of his eyes.  He slipped into the seat across from the clown.

Joker smiled, “I was afraid you weren’t going to show.”

“I had to.”

“Not true.  I left that entirely up to you.  If you hadn’t come, I would have ordered a slightly stronger drink,” he said, gesturing to his wine, “and gone home lonely.”

“I don’t believe you, you wanted me here, so I’m sure you would have made it happen.”

“Not tonight.  Want a drink?”

Bruce frowned and Joker imitated him with a dramatic sigh.

“I don’t drink.”

“Fine, have it your way.  I got a rather nice merlot.”

“You told me that if I came, you would tell me what you are plotting.”

“Right to the point, I can respect that.  I-”

A waiter came over, offering a menu to the two men.  Joker barely glanced at his before announcing, “I’ll have a caprese salad.  Bruce?”

He said curtly, “I’m fine.”

“Have it your way,” Joker shrugged.  He said to the waiter, “We’ll split a pasta carbonara, thanks.”

The waiter walked away and Joker turned back to Bruce, “I hate being the only one eating.  I promise, it’s not poisoned, Lucia’s makes wonderful homemade pasta.”

“Joker…”

“Fine, fine.  Here’s what I have planned, a light dinner, a some conversation, and then a nice walk home.”

“You swore to tell me the truth.  I shouldn’t have trusted you,” Bruce stood up, as though to leave.

“No!” Joker put a hand on his wrist, not holding him in place, but pleading for a moment more.  “I did swear, and I have told the truth.  Please, sit down.”

“Why should I?  You are a criminal, a monster, you swore on the grave of a wife you never had.  I’m leaving”

“Jeannie. I did have a wife, but you wouldn’t know.  She was killed in a fire years ago, the night I fell into the acid.  You were there.”

“I’m sorry.”

“See?  You don’t know me.  Just sit down please.”

Bruce dropped back into the seat and Joker smiled, “Thank you.”

“You really called me here just to have dinner?”

“Yep.  That’s all I want.”

“No deaths, no chaos, no battle royal?”

“Nope.  I’m tired Bruce.”

“What are you tired of?  You love destruction.”

“Thirty six.”

“Sorry?”

“Thirty six, that’s how many times you’ve broken my nose.  I’m tired to getting hurt.”

“I never wanted to hurt you, Joker.  I had to stop you though.”

The waiter came back with their meals.

Joker cut a piece of tomato and waved it around on his fork,  “I know, I know.  I’ve never really held it against you.  I wanted to stop getting hurt, so the answer is simple.  Stop hurting people, so you don’t have to come after me.”

“If you wanted to stay away from me, why would you want to have dinner with me?”

“I don’t want to stay away from you, I just want us to stop fighting.  Consider me in remission.  Do eat something, it is really great.  Or do you only eat bugs?”  
“You have taken so many lives, I should arrest you now.  Why not?”

“You know that anonymous donation to the Wayne foundation this morning?”

“Ten million dollars that appeared out of no where?”

“Yeah, that.  That was me.”

Bruce gave in and took a bite.  Joker was right, it really was good.  “Joker-”

“Ah, ah.  Call me Jack.”

“Fine, Jack.  You are crazy, you take pleasure from others pain.  How can you expect me to believe that you’ve changed?”

“Because I’m not crazy anymore.  I’m perfectly sane.  Well, at least as sane as you are.”

“Prove it.”

“What do you want me to do Bruce?  I haven’t hurt anyone since before the party.  I’m done with that, forever.”

“You still have a history, I can’t wipe that clean.”  
“I know, only I can do that.  And I am working on it.”

They ate in silence for a moment before Bruce looked up.  Joker really did seem to be telling the truth, but how could he know?  The clown was a master con artist.  It was possible all this was was Bruce wanting to believe him.  It was more than possible, it was probable.  Joker couldn’t change.  I would never happen.  Could it?

“Jack?  This is good pasta.”

The jester’s smile could have lit up the dark side of the moon.  He paused for a moment before replying, “Bruce, if I prove to you that I am better, do you think we could do this again?

“....Okay.”


	3. Truth and Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter today, I wanted to get up everything I have before I leave. I'm going away today till Saturday, so I won't update until then. Enjoy!

That very night, the anonymous tips started coming in.  Little messages with the location of all of Joker’s hideouts, stockpiles and bank accounts.  Three days later, the GCPD and Batman had taken down a dozen of Joker’s lairs and Bruce was starting to believe what the clown had told him.  The mornings message was a bit different from the rest.  It came with a warning.

 

Dear Gordon and Batman (I know you’re there)

Go to 13 Jersey St.  All of my men will be there, unarmed and waiting for me.  This is your opportunity to bring them in.  Good luck.

Love,

J

 

“This can’t be true.  There is no way he would give them up like that,” said Gordon.

“I believe him.”

Gordon look incredulous, “Batman, how can you say that?”

“Think about it, he has given up all his hideouts that we know about, even some we didn’t.  All of Joker’s assets have been frozen, and he hasn’t done anything.  The madman doesn’t seem mad right now, he hasn’t even shown his face for weeks.  I think trusting this note is a worthwhile risk.”

“I’m not so eager to risk the life of my cops.”

“I’ll go in and tell you if Joker was telling the truth, then you can follow me in.”

“You really believe he’s telling the truth.  How can you be so sure?”

Batman sighed, “He sent me a card with a phone number on it.  Eventually, I called him and he told me he wanted to get better, to stop getting hurt.”

“You are taking the clown at his word?”

“Not exactly.  I told him to prove it, and he said he would.  I don’t trust Joker, but I trust his pride,” Bruce didn’t add that he felt it was more than pride pushing the jester to prove himself.

“Fine, I’m gonna trust you.  This better not be a set up.”

 

…

 

Batman crouched on a beam above the warehouse floor.  Below him, a few couches were circled around a card table.  About twenty thugs were sprawled about the makeshift living room.  There were no weapons anywhere in the warehouse.

Batman activated his comms, “Gordon, the warehouse is clear, Joker gave us a good tip.  Let’s move.”

From his post outside the doors, Gordon signaled his men and the assault began.  Within minutes, all of the gang members had been arrested.  One of them, who was either very brave of very stupid threw off the officer holding him.

“Joker!” he shouted, “We’re not your entertainment!  Once I get out, I’m coming for you!”

Batman and Gordon watched from the corner as he was cuffed and escorted away.

The commissioner wiped his glasses off, “He was telling the truth.”

“Joker was telling the truth.  He just sold out his gang.” _For me._


	4. A Gift From Me To You

"Master Bruce? A package has arrived here for you," Alfred called down from the entryway.

Bruce replied, "Who's it from?"

"I can't say, it has no return address."

"I'm coming," Bruce jogged down the stairs and took the package from his old butler.

The box was plain, a brown packing box. There was nothing but the address for Wayne manor on the box and a red lipstick kiss mark. Bruce frowned and carried it into the sitting room, setting it on a table. It was heavy, surprisingly so.

He opened it slowly and Alfred said, "Oh my. That is quite the package."

Inside was the Joker's iconic purple suit, folded carefully with a note pinned to the lapel. It sat on top of another, slightly smaller box. Bruce unpinned the note. It read,

> _Dear Bruce,_
> 
> _I have no need of this anymore. I would have sent it to the GCPD, but I honestly don't trust them with the contents of this box. I know you will do what is best and dispose of it safely. You said once I had proven myself, we might see each other again. I hope my actions so far have not been in vain. Call me._
> 
> _All my love,_
> 
> _J_
> 
> _PS. In case you forgot my phone number, it's 978-664-5401. I really do hope you call._

Bruce shoved the note into his pocket before Alfred read it. The handwriting was definitely Joker's, but there was something off. His prose, it was almost poetic, not at all like the previous messages Bruce had received from the clown over time. Those had been chaotic, stream of consciousness rambles filled with macabre humor. Perhaps it was as Joker had said, that he had truly regained his sanity? Part of Bruce believed that could never happen, yet the hero was startled to find that the majority of him desperately wanted it to be true. Only time will tell. Bruce took a deep breath and opened the smaller box. It was filled with Joker's weapons from across the years. His toxin, playing cards, joy buzzer all carefully wrapped up in protective plastic. On top, carefully cleaned and holstered, was Joker's favorite .38 J special. Bruce knew how much the clown had loved this gun. He was actually kind of honored that Joker would give this to him.

Alfred gasped behind him, "Master Bruce! That could go off, the amount of explosives in there!"

"It won't," Bruce said calmly. "Joker doesn't want me dead, he wants my trust."

"Just be careful. No matter how much you may wish it, that monster doesn't feel like you or I do. He will kill you in a heartbeat if so inclined."

"Don't worry, I know," Bruce reassured his butler, all the while planning to call the Joker as soon as possible.  The last time he had waited three days, Bruce was sure he wouldn't last that long this time.  "Bring this down to the cave for me, I'll deal with it later. I'm going get ready, I have a meeting at five."

"Yes, Sir."

Bruce felt Alfred's watchful gaze on him until he shut the door to his room.  He pulled his phone out from his pocket and punched in the Jester's number.

Joker picked up on the second ring, "Hello?"

"Joker?"

"Bruce!  You called."

"You did ask me to," replied Bruce wryly.

Joker laughed, "I did.  To tell the truth, I was afraid you wouldn't."

"I told you I would if you proved to me that your intentions were good.  I feel you have and I am a man of my word."

"I know, this whole city knows.  I wonder, if you are Bruce during the day and Batman at night, when do you sleep?"

Bruce chuckled, "Barely.  I get maybe a few hours a night, and nap when I can.  I'm mostly running on caffeine."

Joker gasped and fell silent.

Bruce frowned, "What?"

"You...laughed.  It wasn't much, but still!  You laughed and told me something about yourself," he paused.  "I like your laugh, I hope I can get you to do it again," Joker add almost shyly.

Bruce smiled, "I have a question for you now."

"I reserve the right to withhold my answer."

"Fine.  What are you doing now that you aren't a criminal?"

"Hmm...you know what?  I'll tell you the answer in person.  Come meet me tonight?"

Bruce paused, considering his options.  Say no, hang up and forget it.  Demand that the Jester tell him here and now.  Or…  "I have a meeting till eight, can I meet you at ten?"

Joker breathed a sigh of relief, "Sure.  Meet me at the corner of 43rd and Pacific."

"Alright, that works for me."

"It's a date.  I mean...not unless you don't want it to be.  Sorry, I-"

Bruce laughed, full on, deep rich laughter.  For one horrifying moment, Joker was afraid the man was laughing at him.

Then Bruce spoke, "It's okay Joker.  I- I want it to be."

"Really?"

"Yeah.  I'll see you soon, Joker."

"Until tonight Bruce."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it feels like things are moving a little fast between Mr. J and Brucie, but I've got a lot planned for later on. Stick with me darlings! The phone number I included is the number for Joker's Wild, a costume shop in Reading MA.


	5. Just Dinner With Jack and Katie Part One

"Oh Fuck!  What did I just agree to?" Bruce angrily ran his hands through his hair.  A date?  With Joker?  I don't even like men!  Well, to be honest, I've never actually liked anyone.  And so what if he looked exceptionally good in that suit.  And he has a beautiful voice.  God, I want him to sing again.  I want him to kiss me again too.

Bruce paced around his room before flopping onto his bed.  So many years of resisting Joker, with his flirtations and charm.  When had that changed?  When had he decided to give it?

“Damn you, Joker,” he muttered, glancing at his watch.  Bruce walked over to his closet.  After spending far too long staring at it, he grabbed a black shirt and a purple tie.  It was rather bright for him, but the billionaire felt it was appropriate.  He shoved his phone and wallet in his pockets and slipped down stairs.

“Alfred, I’m heading out!  Won’t be back til late, so good night!” he called to the butler.

“Good night, Master Wayne.  Drive safely,” he replied as Bruce pulled open the door.

Bruce slid into his car.  He buried his face in his hands, “I’m so dead.”

 

…

 

The meeting couldn’t be over soon enough.  Bruce felt like leaping onto the table and shouting, “How can you possibly be discussing how much we are spending in secretary salaries?  Can’t you see I’m having an internal crisis?!”

But he didn’t.  Bruce took a deep breath and glanced at his watch.  Ten more minutes.  Resigned, he painted and interested look on his face and started counting.  Whether it was anticipation or anxiety the billionaire felt, he could not tell.  It was something strong, and it seemed as though it was going to make Bruce explode.

Five, four, three, two… Bruce stood up, startling some of the board members.

He smiled apologetically at them, “Sorry, everyone, but I have to run.  It was wonderful meeting with you all.  Thanks and have a good evening.”

Bruce tried to keep from looking like he was escaping as he fled the office.  He turned on the stereo as soon as Bruce got into his car, only to have tried four different stations by the first intersection.  Giving up with a sigh, Bruce turned off the music.  Heart racing, sweaty palms, all signs pointed to... Bruce being nervous.  That's ridiculous.  How could I be nervous?  I'm only going on a date.  With Joker.  Bruce growled under his breath and turned on the stereo again.

 

…

 

Two more blocks.  Bruce was is a residential area now, and not one of the nicer ones.  Gotham was home to many extremes.  The very rich lived in palaces outside of the city in the palisades, where Wayne Manor was.  Some others lived in the financial district, near their work.  Then there was the East End.  Going out at night there constituted as attempted suicide, it was that dangerous.  Even inside wasn't safe. Barred windows and metal doors were common.  Gotham does have a middle class, but the area Joker had sent Bruce to was definitely on the lower end of middle class.

Bruce found a parking spot near the corner of 43rd and Pacific.  Standing in the yellow pool of light cast by a street lamp was a man, wearing a trench coat and a fedora.  Bruce walked over to him and cleared his throat.

The man looked up and smiled, "Bruce!  I was afraid you weren't coming."  Joker’s face was covered in concealer, hiding his bleached skin and scarlet lips.  Without his suit, Bruce barely recognized him.

"There was traffic."  There had been, in fact, no traffic whatsoever.  Bruce had spent fifteen minutes circling the block, trying to calm his erratic breathing down enough that he wouldn't make a fool of himself.  "Joker, what are we doing here?"

"Please, call me Jack.  It is my name after all, and it wouldn't do for anyone to hear you call me Joker.  We're here because I live here." Joker shrugged, "It's not much, but since I turned over everything to you and the police, it's all I have.  Shall we walk?"

Bruce offered him his arm without thinking and Joker giggled in a rather delicate way, "I always knew you were a gentleman at heart."

The billionaire smiled bashfully, "What can I say?"

Joker lead them around the corner and up to an old brick apartment building.  They walked up to the fourth floor and he pulled a key from his coat.  As Joker unlocked his door he explained, "I would have loved to take you out to some place nice like I did last time, but I just can't afford it anymore.  I hope you don't mind, I was planning on just making dinner here since I feel it's rather rude to make your date pay for dinner."  Joker blushed slightly, "I'm not a bad cook."

Bruce smiled, "That's fine.  I should have payed last time, I just didn't think about it."

"Oh, I don't mind, don't worry about it," Joker waved a dismissive hand, "It was my pleasure."

The ex-clown prince of crime lead the way into a small living room.  Bruce was surprised by the tastefully subtle decor.  Lime pillows strewed across a gray couch with a purple ottoman.  A small TV sat before it on a glass stand.   Joker pulled off his coat and hat and hung them on the coat stand by the door.

He waved an arm gesturing to the room, "It's not much, but it's home."  Walking into the kitchen Joker called, “Katie? Where are you girl?” He turned to Bruce and asked, “You aren’t allergic to cats, are you?”

“No, I rather like them,” replied Bruce.

“Oh good.  There you are!” Joker leaned under the kitchen table and pulled out a dark tabby cat.  He scratched her ears, drawing a pur from Katie.  “When Harley took the hyenas it got a bit lonely.  I like Katie better than I ever like them anyway, she’s so much easier.”

Bruce ran his fingers through her dark fur, “What happened with Harley?  I haven’t seen her in months.”

“Yeah, well.  She dumped me, if you can believe it.  Took the car too.  Guess who she left me for?”

The billionaire shook his head, mystified.

“Ivy!” Joker laughed.  “She left me for that plant crazy bitch.”

“I’m guessing you haven’t seen her since?”

“Nope.  It was about five months ago she walk out and I haven’t seen hide or leaf of her or Ivy. Surprisingly, I don’t really care.  I miss having a car, but we didn’t work, and I’m happy for them.”

Bruce blinked.  That was not what he had been expecting, but this new Joker seemed full of surprises.

The ex-clown shook himself and smiled, “Why are we talking about them?  Do you mind if I wash off this makeup?  I can leave it if it makes you more comfortable.”

“Please, go ahead.  I said I would like to go out with you didn’t I?  That means you without hiding your face like this.”

Joker beamed and slipped off to wash his face.  Bruce hung up his coat and looked around.  Black and white tiled floor and white cabinets filled the kitchen.  The modern look was completed by concrete counters and lime green appliances.  Joker walked back into the kitchen and turned on a small plum retro radio on the counter.  “Nine In The Afternoon” poured into the small room and Bruce smiled.  Joker pulled open the fridge and hummed quietly.

He turned to Bruce, “How do you feel about Thai chicken curry?”

“That sounds great,” the billionaire replied, rolling up his sleeves.

Joker pulled out the ingredients as Bruce sat about chopping the chicken into strips.

“Hey, Jack?”

“Yeah?” Joker looked up from the pepper he was slicing.

“You said you would tell me what you were doing for work these days.”

“I did, didn’t I?  You’ll never believe this, but I’m now working as a graphic designer for Wayne Enterprises.”

“What?!”

“You heard me.  I’m working for you now.  I’m sure you noticed my impeccable style.  I’ve always been creative, and I needed so way to pay rent.”

“Alright, I concede, it’s not that hard to believe.  But for Wayne Enterprises?”

Joker shrugged, “I couldn’t resist the irony of working for my old enemy.”  A new song came on the radio and Joker clapped his hands, “Oh, sh!  I love this song!”

He put down his knife and leaned over to turn up the volume.  Bruce found his eyes sliding downwards and dragged them back up to the jester’s face.  Joker tapped his purple leather boot in time with the guitar intro music.  

On time, he sang, “Rule number one, is that you gotta have fun.  But baby when you’re done, you gotta be the first to run.”  Joker stopped and bit his lip, “Sorry.”

“No!  I love it when you sing,” now it was Bruce’s turn to be embarrassed.  He hadn’t meant to sound so earnest, but was glad he had when Joker smiled at him and continued singing.

“This is how to be a heartbreaker.  Boys they like a little danger.  We’ll get him falling for a stranger, a player, singing I lo-lo-love you.”

Bruce grinned at him and Joker did a little twirl.

He kept singing, with more confidence now, “Rule number three, wear your heart on your cheek.  But never on your sleeve, unless you wanna taste defeat.  Rule number four, gotta be looking pure.  Kiss him goodbye at the door and leave him wanting more-more.”

As the chorus came up again Joker decided to take a risk and held his hand out to Bruce.  To the jester’s relief, Bruce took his outstretched hand and twirled Joker around.  He stepped closer and the billionaire dipped him, one hand firmly on the other’s back.  Joker giggled and Bruce grinned at him.  When he pulled the smaller man up, Joker leaned in a whispered in Bruce’s ear, “Cause girls don’t want, I don’t want my heart to break, in two. So it’s better to be fake, can’t risk losing in love again, babe.”

The billionaire spun him out and pulled him in again.  Bruce sang “Boys, we like the look of danger.”

Joker laughed, “Of that I have plenty, but you’re safe from me.  Cause I lo-lo-love you.”  He winked and slipped away, “At least I think I do.”


End file.
